Death World(科幻战争)-第1章
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《Death World（科幻战争）》
作者：＇英＇Steve Lyons【完结】
Synopsis （英文书籍文案）
A squad of Catachan Jungle Fighters is sent to the deathworld of Rogar III in response to an ork incursion。 But； as well as dealing with the orks； they must do battle the planet itself … not to the mention the mysterious figures that stalk them across the deadly terrain。
The troops go to war in the Gothic battle…barges of the Empire。 They deal with the inept and sometimes corrupt Imperium commanders。 Horror exists at every turn……from the dangers of the corrupting warp to the attack of zombies in the night。
CHAPTER ONE
As soon as he woke； Trooper Lorenzo knew there was something wrong。
He rolled to his feet； simultaneously drawing his fang。 He crouched in silence； in the dark； ready
to drive half a metre of Catachan steel into the heart of any man or beast that thought it could sneak
up on him。
But Lorenzo was alone。
He turned on the light； suppressing a prickling； creeping feeling as he realised again just how
close the walls of his basic cabin were。 And beyond those walls…
Lorenzo’s bed was undisturbed： he preferred the floor； though even this was too flat for his
liking。 He could feel the beginnings of a stiff neck。 All the same； he had slept for almost five hours。
Longer than usual。 Warp space did that to him。 Out there； beyond the adamantium shell of the ship
that carried him； there was nothing。 But the warp itself distorted space and time； and that played hell
with Lorenzo’s instincts—and his body clock。
His brain itched。 He was tired； but he knew he wouldn’t sleep again now。 He cursed his
weakness。 His tiredness would make him less alert。 In the jungle； it could mean the difference
between life and death。
Lorenzo was safe here； in theory。 No enemies of the Imperium lurked in the shadows。 No
predators to sneak up on him as he slept； unguarded。 Only the warp itself to worry about； and the
possibility that it might capriciously tear the ship and its occupants apart—and there was nothing he
could do about that if it happened。 Nothing anyone could do。
They said no one but the Navigators could look into the warp。 They said it would drive a normal
man insane。 Still； Lorenzo wished he could take that chance。 He wished the ship had windows； so he
could face his enemy and； perhaps； begin to understand it as the Navigators did。
Lorenzo had been in the thick of a space battle once。 He had sat inside a cabin like this one；
gripping the side of an acceleration couch as he rode out the Shockwaves of near misses and
glancing blows； his knuckles white； his life； his destiny； in the hands of a ship’s captain and his
gunners—and of the Emperor； of course。 He had hated that feeling of helplessness。 He had prayed
for the attackers to board the ship； so he could have met them face to face。 When Lorenzo died； he
wanted the comfort of knowing he had fought his best against a superior foe—and if he had his way；
that foe would be no mere space pirate or ork； but something more worthy of his origins and
training。
When Lorenzo died； he wanted to be able to salute his killer； and be buried in its soil。
He splashed a handful of water on his face； and ran a hand through his tangled black hair。 He
threw on his camouflage jacket； though it would be useless against the greys and whites of the ship’s
interior。 He re…sheathed his knife； and was comforted by its weight against his leg； his Catachan
fang was a part of him； as much as his limbs were。 As unlikely as it was that an attack would come；
he had learned always to be prepared。 It was when you allowed yourself to get comfortable that
death could strike unexpectedly。
Somewhere on this ship； he was sure that other members of the company would be awake。 He
could probably find a card game。
Lorenzo’s booted feet rang against the metal floor as he left his cabin； tinny echoes returning to
his ears。 The air was recycled； stale； and it didn’t carry sounds in the way that fresh air did。 The
artificial gravity e as that of any planet he’d visited。 And it was quiet—so
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deathly quiet。 There were none of the sounds of nature to which Lorenzo was attuned； the subtle
clues that mapped out his surroundings for him and warned when danger approached。 Instead； there
was only the faint throb of engines； the vibrations reverberating through the hull so their origin was
untraceable。
There was something wrong…
Everything was wrong。 Man wasn’t meant to exist in this unnatural environment。 None of its
signs could be trusted； and this made Lorenzo uneasy。 If he couldn’t rely on his own instincts； what
could he rely on？ “Fear not the creatures of the jungle but those that lurk within your head。” The old
Catachan proverb came to him unbidden and he thanked the Emperor that his company had its next
assignment。 They were already on their way to a new world； a fresh challenge。
He didn’t know the details yet。 Still； he had no doubt of one thing。 Soon—within days； he
hoped—his squad would be fighting their way across hostile terrain and through hostile creatures；
beset by threats from all directions。 It was likely some of them would die。 He would be in his
element again； his destiny returned to his own hands。
He ached for that moment。
It was early afternoon； ship time； when Colonel “Stone Face” Graves summoned his Third Company
of the Catachan XIV Regiment to the briefing room。
The men of four platoons； their bandoliers slung across their backs； crowded into the small area。
Four platoons； comprising twenty…two squads—including two squads of Catachan Devils； who
stood near the front and around whom even the most hardened veterans left a respectful space。 Then
there were the hulking； low…browed ogryns； included in the briefing as a courtesy though they would
most likely understand only half of what was said。 So long as they were pointed towards the enemy
and permitted to rend and maim； they would be happy。
Lorenzo felt comforted by the presence of so many compatriots—by the press of their bodies
and the natural； earthy odours of dirt and sweat。
“Listen up； you soft…skinned losers；” barked the colonel。 A howl of good…natured protest rose
from the assembled company； but Graves’ chiselled features remained harsh and rigid。 “Naval
Command think you lot have had it easy too long； and I agree with them。 I begged them： ‘No more
milk runs。 I want no less than the dirtiest； most dangerous job you’ve got。 I won’t have my Jungle
Fighters turning into fat； lazy sons of acid grubs who wouldn’t lift a hand to scratch their own
arses！’ So； ladies； last chance to pamper yourselves in your luxury quarters—because as of this
evening； you’ll be working for your keep。”
This pronouncement was met by a rousing cheer。
“Planetfall at 19。00 hours；” the colonel continued； his voice loud and clear across the tumult
though he’d made no effort to raise it。 “Anyone not in full kit and waiting at the airlocks by 18。30
finds himself on punishment detail for a month！”
“Yes； sir！” came the answering swell from the crowd。
“Colonel；” someone yelled from the back。 Lorenzo recognised the voice of “Hotshot” Woods；
from his own squad。 “You serious？ Is this going to be a real challenge for us this time？”
“You idlers ever hear of Rogar III？” growled Graves。 “It’s a jungle world； out in the back of
beyond。 Explorators found it a couple of years ago； decided it was right for colonising and stripmining。
Just one problem： They’d been beaten to it。 That’s why they called on us。 We have
Guardsmen down there fighting orks for the past year and a half； but they’re starting to find it tough
going。”
Lorenzo joined in the collective jeers of mock sympathy。
“They’re crying out for someone to hold their hands；” added Graves； to a roar of laughter。 “You
see； seems Rogar wasn’t the walk in the park they thought it’d be。 Three weeks ago； in response to
reports from the front； the planet was re…categorised as no longer suitable for colonisation…” He left
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a long pause there； but every man present knew what was coming； and anticipation hung heavy in
the recycled air。
“…on account of it being classified as a deathworld！�
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